Thursday, October 24, 2013

Coffin hop time and my interview with Armand Rosamilia

It's Coffin hop time folks! The fun begins today and if you're on Facebook please be sure to come to my release party for my new book Bob The Sequel. There's prizes to be had and a crazy amount of fun, too. If you want to see all the other Hoppers make sure you go to www.CoffinHop.com and check the list out! Alright, let's get to it...

I've not interviewed another author before and I couldn't have picked a better one to start with. For those who don't know him already, Armand Rosamilia is a top notch horror author and one of the best zombie authors I've met. Here's a picture of him standing next to one of the other best zombie authors, Joe McKinney.

Let's begin!

Q: When did you start writing?

A: When I was twelve, but seriously in my early twenties.
Then I screwed around and walked away from it and found it again in my
thirties. I got serious about two years ago (in my forties) and decided to d
this for a living. So far so good.

Q: What was the first story you remember writing?

A: "Beastie" was the first horror story I
completed and I was 18. I ended up 'selling' it a couple of years later to a
side-stapled zine. I'm quite proud of it and I've released it in a collection
or two over the years.

Q: What genre is your most preferred?

A: Horror, but I've also written thrillers ("Miami Spy
Games"), contemporary fiction ("Flagler Beach Fiction Series")
and even erotica under a penname. I enjoy writing horror the most, though. o

Q: What challenges you the most in your writing?

A: Focusing each and every day on a small word count goal of
2,000 words. Not turning on the TV or reading a book or doing a million other
things until I hit my goal.

Q: What is your favorite thing about being an author?

A: The hours. I can some days pump out 2,000 words in 90
minutes and then do promotion, answer e-mails and kill the rest of the day
doing what I want to do.

Q: What do you like least about being an author?

A: The hours, lol… sometimes I fight to stay in the chair
and other days I can't keep away from it and spend 10-15 hours writing and
editing and answering interviews and e-mails. There is no clock to punch to go
home because I'm always home.

Q: How many books do you currently have available?

A: On Amazon I have
over 100 releases with my name on it. I am what you might call prolific. I set
a goal and 99.9% of the time I hit it.

Q: What projects are you currently working on?

A: About 6 of them. I'll have the fourth "Flagler Beach
Fiction Series" book out by mid-November (Flagler Fish Company) as well as
"Evil," the fifth and final Keyport Cthulhu story and then the print
book will soon follow… Dying Days: Origins and Dying Days: European Village 2
co-written with Tim Baker, and then an anthology with writers playing in my
Dying Days universe called Still Dying 2… and that's just what's coming in
November.

Q: Which book, or series, is your favorite?

A: Definitely Robert E. Howard's Conan series. As a kid I read and re-read them over and over. They
were amazing and I still also have a complete run of the Conan Marvel Comics, too. I'm a geek.

A: Most books do. I love to read and get some new insight or
ideas from everything I read.

Q: Do you listen to music when you write? If so, what
band(s) do you play?

A: I put music on in the background but usually not anything
I know or like so it doesn't distract me. I'm used to writing in public places
with customers talking and music playing, so I need some noise.

Q: Any hobbies?

A: Who has time for that?

Tell us some more about yourself including your website and
where we can find you on social media sites:

I am all over social media. My website ishttp://armandrosamilia.com and you can find
me on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Pinterest, new Myspace… everywhere.

Care to share a bit of one of your books with us?

This is the unedited first chapters to Dying Days: Origins…

Dying Days: Origins

Chapter One:
Notorious

The
apartment was cramped, smoky and the radio way too loud for the neighbors.
Tosha Shorb tried to get to the window to open it despite the cold night, but
several drunks were in her way.

"Excuse
me," she asked the guy in front of her. He ignored her.

She
was tired - she'd worked a double today - and, despite three shots was still
sober. And now she was sweating because forty people were crammed into this
shitty apartment.

"Excuse
me," she said louder, trying to talk over the inane pop music blasting.
When he glanced down at her and smirked, putting his beer can to his lips, she
lost it. Before she could think she'd swung around and smashed him in the face,
the can crushing on his face and beer exploding in all directions.

"What
the fuck?" he managed, and took a defensive position even as blood and
beer streamed down his face and chest. He cocked his fist to punch but stopped,
staring at his attacker.

Tosha
was a slight redhead with piercing eyes, which were now filled with rage. She
looked much younger than her twenty-seven years, which wasn't a good thing when
you worked in a hospital and patients never took you seriously when you came
for blood-work.

She
put her hands on her hips, aware the music had been turned down and all eyes on
her. As usual. Glad her twin sister wasn't here to give her the motherly look,
she tried to remain calm. "I asked you to move."

The
guy laughed. "Are you even allowed in here, little girl? What are you,
twelve?"

There
were a few snickers from those guests that didn't know Tosha. To her friends
and those aware of her reputation, they knew what was coming and took two steps
back.

The
rage was building. She had two choices: turn and walk out and go home, or take
action.

She
put her right foot back a step at the same time he wiped his face and winked at
her. Tosha tipped her weight forward with her hard leather boot swinging,
catching him squarely in the groin.

As
he doubled over, dropping to one knee, she leaned over and got in his face.
"I'm allowed wherever the fuck I want, you fat piece of shit." Tosha
winked at him as people grabbed her by the arms and pulled her away.

"I
think you need to leave," someone said to her.

"Of
course. You can't have some little girl in here kicking dude's asses, can
you?" Tosha shrugged off their grip and gave them the finger as she left.

Chapter Two: Flesh
Eater

It was cold but
her rage kept her more than warm. Her Lizzy Borden concert shirt - she'd picked
it up in Allentown during their last U.S.
tour - was sticking to her chest and her tight blue jeans were starting to
bother her. Her toes still felt numb after kicking the guy in the balls, and
the thought of it made her laugh.

The
streets of Harrisburg
were empty, as usual. "Should've listened to Trista and stayed in."
Her sister was the introverted one, preferring to sit home after work and play
videogames online with her imaginary friends instead of going out into the
actual world and talking to actual people.

She
even preferred to be called by her stupid online name, Mathyu. Tosha didn't
know if that was the dumb part, or the fact that she'd started addressing her
sister by the name.

In
order to get to her apartment she cut through an alley between the McDonalds
and the Harrisburg Laundromat. It always smelled bad down here, but it was much
worse during the summer, when the garbage heated up, rotten food and dead rats
stinking. The bums loved this alley because the fast food garbage was tossed in
the dumpster, and they'd rip the bags apart and feast.

Tosha
decided to sleep in tomorrow, burying herself in her pillows and stuffed
animals on her bed, curtains drawn, and threaten her sister to not wake her
unless the world was ending.

She
was so focused on her thoughts she stumbled into the bum, standing in the dark
in the middle of the alley.

"Watch
where you're going," she said loudly. Usually when you shouted or acted
crazier than they did, the bums would leave you alone.

He
didn't move.

When
she tried to sidestep him he grabbed her left arm. He leaned into her and his
breath was like rotting meat and bile. Tosha nearly gagged, but knew she had to
get away from this crack-head or drunk and escape before she was raped.

"Back
off, dickhead," she said and pushed him away. He simply reached for her
again. Tosha easily moved around him and ran down to the other end of the
alley. When she looked back he was walking slowly toward her. "Fuck you,
asshole. Maybe I'll call the cops."

He
kept coming with that staggered, insanely slow stutter step. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Was
he fucking with me, trying to freak me out? Playing some game?

As
he got closer she tried to see his face, but it was too dark. Was he smiling,
laughing, stoned? Tosha had all kinds of overdoses in the hospital, and she'd
seen too many drug addicts with faraway stares or looks like they wanted to
kill you.

She
walked backwards to the other side of the street, aware she was alone. A quick
glance north and south confirmed her fear. There wasn't a person out this time
of night. No cars went by on the cross streets, she didn't hear traffic, not
even a train rumbling by.

It
felt like an hour but he finally made it to the end of the alley and stepped
out onto the sidewalk and under the street light.

Tosha
gasped. He was covered in blood, his mouth dripping with it.

"Is
this some fucking joke, asshole? It's not funny. Did you come from that lame
party, and think you can fuck with me?"

She
puffed out her chest and planted her feet. She was headstrong and didn't run
away from a challenge, even if it was a dumb idea. Her past was littered with
dumb ideas, and she thought this was about to be another one.

"Last
chance to leave me alone," she said. He took another three steps forward,
within ten feet, when she gasped.

Something
wet and bloody fell from his mouth and to the pavement. His eyes were glazed
over and dead, his mouth slowly moving like he was biting the air. His arms
were bent forward, straining at her.

9 comments:

I really enjoyed reading this interview. My goal is to go from being a full-time article writer and fiction writing - to a full-time fiction writer. Writing 2,000 words a day is no problem for me because I write more than that every day now. I know I can reach my dream if I just stick to my plans.

Very cool interview, Jaime. I love hearing what makes other writers tick. I'm more than a little bit jealous of Armand's schedule, however. My 11 hour day job nearly gets in the way of everything. *sigh*See, I told you our paths would cross!Happy Hopping!

I think word count goals ate a necessary evil, myself. Writers spend all day "writing" in our heads, but if we don't get the butt in the chair and the words on the screen, we won't get anywhere. Great interview.